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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25779061">Don't Be Afraid to Let Them Show (Your True Colors)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettyboyporter/pseuds/prettyboyporter'>prettyboyporter</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Stranger Things (TV 2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff, M/M, Recreational Drug Use</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 07:33:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,753</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25779061</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettyboyporter/pseuds/prettyboyporter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Billy and Robin team up to help plan Steve's birthday.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>176</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Don't Be Afraid to Let Them Show (Your True Colors)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/flippyspoon/gifts">flippyspoon</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>HAPPY BIRTHDAY FLIPPY! I know you're 40 but there are DICKS IN THIS, BE WARNED.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Billy took a drag from his smoke as he sat in the Camaro in front of the Hawkins High football field. </p><p>It was the last place he wanted to be, especially in the middle of fucking summer. The windows were rolled down, but the breeze rolling through was not enough to do anything more than to blow across the trails of sweat rolling down the side of his neck. </p><p>It wasn’t like coming back to high school had a lot of great memories for him, besides the fond recollection of seeing Steve’s dick in the shower, but now that he had been dating Steve for nearly a year, he got to see that dick all the time, upon request. So he was pretty well set in that department.</p><p>The parking lot was empty save for a handful of cars where the band members were parked. He listened to the disjointed rendition of Chicago’s <i>25 or 6 to 4</i> coming from the field. They stopped and started over and over, horns blaring until the director seemingly gave up for the day.</p><p>Finally they started to emerge one at a time, lugging their instruments. Robin had her saxophone case strap slung over her shoulder. She looked wilted in the heat. The black bowtie on the top of her headband hung limp. </p><p>“Need a ride, dweeb?” Billy hollered out his passenger window. </p><p>“God yes,” she said, relief washing over her visibly as she opened the door and jammed her case in the backseat. “You’re a sight for sore eyes. Not working today?” </p><p>“Nah. Restaurant is closed on Monday and Tuesday.” Billy wouldn’t mind if Jack Sinclair opened on those days, though. Cooking at <i>Sinclair’s</i>, Hawkins’ newest restaurant that was giving Enzo’s a run for its money, gave Billy a sense of pride and purpose. Jack also didn’t blink when Billy walked in and yanked the <i>Help Wanted</i> sign off the window and said <i>I can cook for you</i> -- he just asked Billy to cook up a test meal using what was in the kitchen, then gave him the job on the spot.</p><p>“Ah. Well, happy weekend then.” She flipped down the visor and started to adjust her headband, fluffing up the bow and frowning as it continued to sag back down. “It smells like sweat and Marlboros in here.” </p><p>Billy inhaled deeply. “Mm, yeah. Sexy, right?”</p><p>Robin narrowed her eyes at Billy. “You’re the grossest. Like, frat house levels of gross. You’re lucky that I know you’re smart, Billiam.” </p><p>“Listen, Desperately Seeking Susan, that’s <i>Billy</i> to you.” </p><p>“Sorry, what was that, Willard Van Halen? Can’t hear you over that obnoxious mullet.” </p><p>“Cut the shit, Buckley. I have a question for you.” He started pulling away from the school, and the resulting breeze poured through the windows flowed under Billy’s hair -- a temporary relief. </p><p>She turned toward him in her seat. “I’m all ears.” </p><p>“It’s the end of July.” </p><p>Robin raised her eyebrows and said, “that is factually correct, yes. And?’” </p><p>Billy took the last drag on his smoke and flicked the butt out the window. “So, that means Steve’s birthday is coming up.” </p><p>“August second, right?” </p><p>“Yep. One week from today. I don’t really have anything planned yet and kind of want to do something, I don’t know. Kind of special, I guess.” </p><p>A big grin broke out over Robin’s face. “Aw, you <i>love Stevie</i>. You’ve got <i>feelings</i>!” </p><p>Billy just sighed, but couldn’t help the little smile on his face, even as he tried to wipe it away. “I just thought, y’know, with you being his best friend and all. Maybe we could join forces and figure out something nice.”</p><p>“Wonder Twin powers, <i>activate</i>!” Robin started tugging on her beads as she thought. “I know something our boy would love. A small surprise party. If we do something intimate, invite only a few people, he’d be into it.” </p><p>Billy nodded. “Where could we do it though? I live in like, a goddamn shoebox.” Billy’s apartment above Melvald’s felt cramped even with only Billy, Steve, and Robin there, let alone trying to cram ten to fifteen people there. </p><p>“Hm. Can’t do it at my place -- parents would freak out. Maybe I could sneak him out of his parent’s place and we could do it there?”</p><p>Billy shook his head. “Negative. They’re home. Not leaving until August 15th.” </p><p>Robin frowned. “Yeah then, no. Not a fan of stick-up-the-ass WASPy Mom and Pop Harrington. Maybe we could ask Mrs. Sinclair or Mrs. Henderson if we could borrow their house for it. Hey! What about the restaurant?”</p><p>“Sinclair’s?”</p><p>“Think Jack would let us have it? It’s on a Monday, even. He wouldn’t be open. Maybe he’d agree to rent it to us -- have the place to ourselves.” </p><p>Billy thought about it and shrugged his shoulder. “Couldn’t hurt to ask.” </p><p>Robin shrugged. “Worst he could do is say no.” </p><p>“I’ll ask him Wednesday before my shift and give you a call after.” </p><p>A few beats of silence passed as Billy pulled around the corner to Robin’s house. “Hey, what’re you up to right now? Because-” She dug into her bag and pulled out a VHS case that read <i>Seven Samurai</i>. “I got this, and there’s no way we could get dingus to watch it.” She pulled out a small baggie of weed. “Also, Jonathan Byers hooked me up and my parents are in Indy tonight.” </p><p>Billy put the car in park and pulled the keys from the ignition. He’d appreciated everything Robin had done for him in his recovery -- kept him on his toes with her wit and intelligence and wasn’t all awkward and didn’t talk to him like he was a Faberge egg. She was gentle when she needed to be, but mostly, she challenged him to talk about books and film and world views. She helped to make him feel human again in the best of ways. He flicked her bow and smiled. “Lead the way, Buckley.” </p><p>~*~</p><p>A few hours later he unlocked his apartment door, toed off his shoes, and turned on the light to find Steve snoring softly on his couch. </p><p>It wasn’t uncommon. Billy felt closer and closer all the time to asking if Steve would move in with him, since Steve spent about half of his week at Billy’s place anyway, but some part of him that was made small and scared by years of verbal abuse kept the words from forming on his lips. </p><p>Now, though, Billy still felt happy, loose, and fuzzy from Robin’s weed. Steve was wearing shorts so tight that Billy could see the outline of Steve’s dick through the red fabric. Billy felt a rush straight to his groin -- a little high, and a lot horny.</p><p>He climbed on top of Steve and hovered over him, careful not to disturb him, and instead leaned down to kiss his lips. Steve inhaled sharply then immediately responded in kind, saying <i>baby</i> and pressing his lips to Billy’s. He wrapped his arms around Billy’s back.</p><p>Steve gave and gave -- during Billy’s recovery he stood by patiently as Billy smashed a vase and flipped a table to release his anger and frustration. He held Billy tight when Billy couldn’t take it anymore and cried on Steve’s shoulder, clutching Steve too tightly. He played one on one with Billy in the cool two in the morning air. He helped Billy do these stupid rehab exercizes that made Billy curse and Steve laugh but being around Steve was never bad. Steve had kissed and licked every inch of Billy’s body, fucked him into tears and held him down to Earth when Billy felt out of his body with anxiety. </p><p>Steve always gave, and Billy took, and now Billy seized the opportunity to give back and whisper praise, “Baby, fuck you’re so good,” he said against the corner of Steve’s mouth. </p><p>He kissed Steve until Steve gave that little whine, the one that went straight into Billy’s mouth, the one that made Billy feel out of his mind still that <i>he</i> was the one who could do that to Steve, and then he pulled back and said, “Turn over, pretty boy.” </p><p>“God I missed you tonight,” Steve said as he kicked off his shorts and underwear to the floor, turning over and getting on his knees. </p><p>Billy ran his hand over the beautiful curve of Steve’s asscheeks, a little fatter now thanks to a few extra pounds after graduation, lovely and even more luscious, squeezing them before sliding his fingers between them and spreading them apart. “I just saw you on your break at work six hours ago.” </p><p>“I know, but I - <i>ah</i>,” Steve sighed as Billy ran his tongue over Steve’s hole, lapping around before teasing his way in. Steve started mumbling profanities as Billy stretched his jaw and licked his way in, starting to get a little sloppy as he fucked Steve with his tongue. </p><p>Billy closed his eyes as he pulled his tongue out to lick the skin again before pulling up to kiss the curve of Steve’s ass. He shifted down again, this time lying back on the couch and lying between Steve’s legs so that Steve’s dick was pointing straight down to his mouth. Billy lifted his head to suck the little line of precum that had gathered there. </p><p>He touched Steve’s hip in invitation, and Steve looked down at him as Billy looked up. </p><p>“You’re gonna kill me, Jesus,” Steve said as he gave a little thrust into Billy’s mouth. </p><p>Sucking Steve was always a feat -- he had to stretch his mouth wide, work Steve’s shaft with his hand in tandem, and try to relax this throat to let Steve fuck down into it. </p><p>Billy could only take a few seconds of it, spluttering and trying to time his breaths with Steve’s thrusts, until he placed a hand on Steve’s hip to let him fuck just over Billy’s tongue. The weight of Steve’s dick was heavy on his tongue and Billy loved this bit -- watching Steve come apart, letting Steve get Billy’s jaw all sore and talking with a slur afterward. </p><p>The way Steve started curling his toes and shifting his feet told Billy that he was close, and the little furrow in his brow was just too fucking cute, so Billy picked up the pace and sucked and stroked and did what he knew would make Steve shoot -- he slid a finger up inside of Steve’s spit-slicked hole. The moment Billy’s finger grazed Steve’s prostate, Steve spilled down Billy’s tongue, into his mouth.</p><p>Billy swallowed every drop and placed a kiss to the dark pink head. </p><p>Steve huffed a laugh and they shifted so they were sitting next to each other on the couch. “Goddamn, what got into you?” His fingers traced over the very visible outline of Billy’s dick in his shorts. </p><p>“God all revved up seeing you sleeping on my couch,” Billy said as Steve’s hand slid inside and started stroking Billy’s dick. </p><p>It didn’t take long -- what Billy had just done to Steve had him harder than a diamond and it only took Steve telling him that he wanted to fuck him all day, that he was dying to get his hands on Billy’s dick, and about ten strokes before Billy was cumming all over Steve’s hand and his own belly. </p><p>They washed up and were out cold within a few minutes of sliding into Billy’s bed. As Billy started to drift off, his mind invented scenario after scenario about how Steve’s birthday would play out next week. </p><p>Billy desperately hoped that whatever happened, it would make Steve happy.</p><p>~*~</p><p>“Hey! It’s Billiard Hargrove! You’re early,” Chet called cheerfully from the line as Billy made his way through the kitchen’s back door. He walked past the pass where waiters picked up the dishes. “Getting your mise ready?”</p><p>“Not yet. Gotta talk to the big man. He around?” Billy reached over and plucked a sauteed green bean from Chet’s skillet. </p><p>“Up front.”</p><p>Billy walked toward the dining room entrance. “Needs <i>salt</i>, Chet.” </p><p>“Fuck <i>off</i>, Billy!” </p><p>Jack was doing a round of greeting his tables, making sure everyone was happy with their experience. It took just a moment for Jack to glance back and catch Billy’s eye, and Billy waved him over. </p><p>A nervous flutter formed in Billy’s stomach, and he tried to quash it. Jack had always been a fair boss. He didn’t bitch at Billy when Billy had to take breaks, he jumped on the line when he saw Billy was in the weeds with orders, and was infinitely patient when Billy first started and fucked up on a regular basis. </p><p>Over time Jack had come to rely on Billy, and Billy did everything he could to prove that he was a leader in the kitchen. He easily fell into a groove and stepped up to take control often, especially when things were going haywire -- Billy had shown that he could wrangle the kitchen back into shape. Three times now, Jack had shaken Billy’s hand and given him a raise. </p><p>There was no reason Billy should’ve been afraid to ask Jack for a favor -- but there was still that small part of him, that tiny little voice that he’d worked so hard on squashing, that was still a little insecure and still made him feel like he shouldn’t <i>want</i> things. </p><p>The ghost of Neil Hargrove, was what Steve liked to call that feeling before encouraging Billy to shake it off. </p><p>“Hey Jack,” Billy said as Jack approached. “Got a sec?”</p><p>Jack placed his hands on his hips. “You better not be quitting on me, Billy.” </p><p>“No! Hell no. I just wanted -- I wondered if I might be able to ask for a favor. It’s my -- ah -- it’s Steve Harrington’s birthday next Monday and I thought, maybe, like, I don’t know if this is something you <i>do</i>, but do you ever rent this place out? For private parties?” </p><p>Jack crossed his arms and frowned. </p><p>Billy braced himself for a <i>no</i>. </p><p>“Steve Harrington,” Jack stated.</p><p>Billy nodded. “Yeah.”</p><p>A couple of beats passed. “You two close?” </p><p>Billy chewed on his bottom lip for a moment and thought about how to best answer this. “Yeah.” He looked down at the shine on Jack’s shoes. Couldn’t bear to look up, but he also had to speak the truth. “He’s the most important person in my life.” </p><p>He swallowed heavily against the thickness in his throat, and then he felt a hand clasp his shoulder. “Son. If he’s the most important person to you, then you can <i>damn</i> well be sure he’s important to me. You can have the restaurant. I’ll even cook for you. How’d that be?” </p><p>Billy lifted his eyes and nodded.  </p><p>If Jack noticed the tear dripping from the corner of Billy’s eye, he didn’t say anything. </p><p>Jack smiled warmly and shoved at Billy’s shoulder. “I’ll give you the key on Sunday. You can come in earlier on Monday to decorate, and I’ll be here at 6. Dinner’s at 7. Just let me know the headcount on Sunday. Now -- go get ready for your shift, chef. Got a full house on the books tonight.” </p><p>Billy felt a grin on his mouth this time when he said these words now, they meant something different -- something <i>good</i>. “Yes sir.” </p><p>~*~</p><p>“Dustin! For the last time, we cannot have a goddamn <i>can of silly string</i> as the centerpiece of each table,” Robin said as she started yanking the cans off the table and replacing them with a tasteful candle arrangement. </p><p>“Okay, Robin, I see that you’re upset. But hear me out. Steve loves silly string! And it’s his birthday, right? We need to do what Steve wants. Think of <i>Steve</i>.” </p><p>“We are not spraying silly string inside of this classy restaurant that Billy got for us for <i>free</i>, no matter how much the dingus would like it.” Robin turned sharply to Billy, who was heading to the kitchen to get some prep work out of the way for Jack. “Billy? What do you think?” </p><p>Billy chewed his lip for a moment. “Silly string at every other table.” </p><p>Dustin yelped and clapped his hands as a giant grin took over his face. “Ha! Thank you Billy! I should’ve been much easier on you after Starcourt, man. I knew you were logical. Maybe there is a bit of Vulcan in your Klingon core.”</p><p>Billy walked through the kitchen door and shouted, “Wrong on both counts, kid. I’m 100% a Gorn in human skin.” </p><p>Dustin cackled as Billy lit up a smoke and started pulling down ingredients. </p><p>Time flew by. He fell into a zone of chopping and sauteing, tasting and adjusting as everything else faded away while he prepped for Jack’s arrival. It was always something he appreciated about cooking -- how he could just change frequencies mentally and fall away into another world where there was no Neil or giant flesh monsters or endless days of hospital beds. </p><p>“Damn. You didn’t have to do all this,” came Jack’s voice from the back door. </p><p>Billy snapped his head up. “Wanted to give you a head start,” Billy said, putting out his smoke. Jack generally didn’t like when Billy smoked in the kitchen, so Billy tried to keep his habit to little smoke breaks behind the restaurant. </p><p>“Appreciated, but not necessary.” Jack washed his hands and opened the walk-in cooler. “It’s your work ethic that’s gonna help me put goddamn Enzo Loretti out of business.” </p><p>“You ever gonna tell me about the beef between you and Enzo?” </p><p>“Maybe someday, kid. So, what’d you get him?” </p><p>Billy took his dirtied dishes to the sink and started washing up. He felt his cheeks flush with heat. “A tape.” </p><p>“That’s it? The most important person in our life and you’re tellin me you got him a tape? I call bullshit,” Jack said as he emerged with his arms full of food. </p><p>Billy came over to help Jack carry everything. “It’s a mixtape with, y’know, important songs and shit.” </p><p>Jack paused and cocked his eyebrow. “And? What else?”</p><p>Billy leaned back against the counter and tried to shrug, like it was nothing. “A key.” </p><p>“A key? Key to what? To your Camaro? To Hawkins? Your <i>heart</i>?” Jack smiled. </p><p>Billy grinned. “To my place.” </p><p>“Good for you. ‘Bout time. Now hand me that porterhouse, please.” </p><p>It was not the reaction that Billy thought he would get -- he’d all but outed himself to Jack Sinclair and the biggest reaction he got was <i>hand me that porterhouse</i>. It felt like the incalculable weight of Neil Hargrove’s ghost was lifted from Billy’s shoulders. He helped Jack until Jack kicked him out of the kitchen and told him to go home and get ready already. </p><p>~*~</p><p>“Stop <i>squirming</i>.” </p><p>“Swear to god, Buckley, if you don’t hurry the fuck up,” Billy said as he tried to still himself again. </p><p>Robin sighed heavily as she stood in front of him and put her hands on her hips. “This would take a lot less time if you’d hold still. I’m gonna end up poking your eye out with a black eyeliner pencil and how would that look on Steve’s birthday with all of us sitting in an emergency waiting room while they fix your stupid missing eye?” </p><p>Billy grinned. “But that means I could have an eyepatch.” </p><p>“Billy. My little pumpkin. <i>Please</i> stop.” </p><p>“Would you call me Billy Bluebeard if I had an eyepatch?”</p><p>“William. Joseph. Hargrove-”</p><p>“I’d let you touch my socket, Rob, c’mon. You know it would be badass.”</p><p>Robin leaned forward and narrowed her eyes. “If you don’t sit still and look up at the ceiling right the fuck now, I’m walking out that door and you can manage this party on your own.” </p><p>“Alright, alright, fine,” Billy said and held up his hands. He sat up straight and looked up. “Have at it. Make me pretty.” </p><p>“Thank you,” Robin said with relief in her voice. “Like dingus wouldn’t find you ridiculously hot anyway.” </p><p>Billy could feel the gentle tugging of the eyeliner stick under his lashes as Robin applied the liner, and he tried not to blink. “Thanks, Robin. For everything.” </p><p>“I didn’t do anything. Not really.” </p><p>“You know what I mean.” Billy meant how she visited him in the hospital and brought him books. They way she knew the magic moment when to let him have time to himself, and when also to leave him alone with Steve. How she always seemed to know, before Billy got together with Steve, just the right thing to say to make Steve blush so that she could walk away and leave Billy and Steve to sort out the aftermath.</p><p>He meant the way she’d stuck by Billy’s side through this all. </p><p>She finished applying the eyeliner and pulled back to check out her handiwork before looking into his eyes. Slowly, she reached out to touch his cheek for just a few moments. “You’re welcome,” she said softly. “Now don’t cry or you’ll end up looking like a raccoon.”</p><p>“Wouldn’t dream of it.” </p><p>They stood and got ready to leave for the restaurant. </p><p>~*~</p><p>Jack <i>refused</i> to allow Billy in the kitchen, insisting that Billy and his party were Jack’s guests and therefore Billy needed to sit and enjoy himself. </p><p>It was a hard pill to swallow -- he desperately wanted to hop back and give Jack a hand, but it turned out that Jack had brought reinforcement in the form of his brother -- Erica and Lucas’s dad, Eddie -- as well as one of the line chefs. </p><p>Soon enough, though, the Beemer pulled up in front of the restaurant and parked. Everyone else had parked around the back of the restaurant to not give anything away. Billy recognized Dustin’s curly head in the passenger seat.</p><p>Robin ran to the back to cut the lights off. “They’re here -- everyone hide!” </p><p>Billy crouched down behind the table where he’d be sitting with Steve. The premise was that Dustin needed to swing by to pick up something from Jack for Lucas and Erica, and that Steve should come in, too, because Jack had a slice of birthday cake for Steve. </p><p>Dustin bounded through the door and disappeared behind a table. </p><p>Steve followed slowly and glanced around the dark room. “Dustin? Why’s it so dark in here?” </p><p>The lights cut on and everyone jumped up and yelled, “Surprise!” </p><p>The kids immediately ran out to crush Steve with a group hug, and somewhere in the background Jack turned on the restaurant’s speakers -- some upbeat motown tunes from the oldies station. Maybe not Billy’s style, but he knew Steve sometimes would sing along to the Temptations if he was flicking through the radio stations. </p><p>The moms all filtered through the kids to give Steve a hug, abandoning their bottle of red wine. </p><p>Jack came out with appetizers and started setting them down, calling “HAPPY BIRTHDAY HARRINGTON!” as he did so. </p><p>Hopper shook Steve’s hand, followed by Eddie Sinclair, as the two of them went out front to go smoke a cigar.</p><p>The smile on Steve’s face lit up the entire room. </p><p>“Good idea, Buckley,” Billy said to Robin as he watched Dustin put a Burger King crown on Steve’s head. </p><p>Robin bumped her shoulder to Billy’s. “We make a good team.” </p><p>“That we do,” Billy said, and that was when Steve made his way over to pluck Robin up and spin her in a bear hug.  </p><p>“Happy birthday dingus!” She said as he put her back down. </p><p>“Thanks Robin,” he said, and then he turned his smile to Billy -- bright as the sun, warmer than a San Diego summer. </p><p>Billy felt a little shy under the glow, if he was being honest. He could feel the heat of a blush spreading on his cheeks and neck. </p><p>“Did you plan all this?” Steve asked quietly as he stepped close and pulled Billy in for a long hug. </p><p>“Robin and Dustin helped,” Billy said. As the embrace went on, more like lovers and less like friends, he glanced around and everyone seemed to have their attention elsewhere -- caught up in conversations at their table as they finished their appetizers. </p><p>Billy followed their lead and sat down, but Steve didn’t. Not immediately. Instead, he took Billy’s face in hands and planted a lingering kiss on Billy’s lips. Billy felt a bit of panic but crushed it down -- remembered that they were in safe company. There was a wolf whistle coming from somewhere in the group, and when Steve finally pulled back, he spied Max giggling behind her hand as El high-fived her. </p><p>“Shoulda never taught you how to do that, Maxine,” he shouted as Steve sat down. </p><p>She flipped him off and resumed her conversation with El.</p><p>The porterhouse was Jack’s gift to Steve. After dinner Steve dug into his pile of gifts and walked away with items like a hand-knit hat (Mrs. Henderson), a paperback of <i>Skeleton Crew</i> (Lucas),  a VHS cassette of <i>The Natural</i> (Robin), a book on how to create a budget (Ted Wheeler), among a handful of other thoughtful presents. </p><p>But Billy saved his gift. It wasn’t until after the dancing and dessert, not until everyone said their goodbyes and Billy and Steve were leaning against the Beemer’s driver side door, sharing a joint (Jonathan’s gift), that Billy handed over the first wrapped box. </p><p>Steve ripped the paper off to reveal the cassette, opened the case, and pulled out the liner notes to look over the songs. </p><p>Only a few of them were really Billy’s taste -- but each represented how he felt about Steve. </p><p>Not that any of that needed to be explained. Steve looked over Billy’s heavy printing and bit his lip, then leaned over to plant a kiss on Billy’s lips. “Thank you baby,” he said. </p><p>“That’s just -- that’s not your real gift.” </p><p>Steve blinked. “No?” </p><p>“‘Course not. Here,” Billy said and handed over the second box. </p><p>Steve looked at it a moment before opening the paper carefully, as if he didn’t want to ruin it for some reason, lifting each piece of tape up gently to reveal the small white box. </p><p>He flipped open the lid and inside on a white cushion was a nondescript looking silver house key. </p><p>“It. Uhm.” Billy tried to find his voice to put words to his emotions. “It’ll probably be hard. We might take a lot of shit for it, but, y’know, I almost died, and you risked your life a few times, so, I thought what the fuck ever. I think it would be worth a shot. We might fuck up, might make mistakes, but we’re pretty good at thinking on our feet -- whatever bullshit we step in, we can work through it together. I figure, after the last year and you seeing me through the hardest fucking time in my life, if you can walk with me through the crucible and come out the other side and still love me, we can make it through any goddamn thing. So. Wanna move in with me, pretty boy?”</p><p>“Yeah. I mean yes. Of course I will. Been wanting to for ages now,” Steve said, and the grin that broke across his face made Billy smile, too. </p><p>Billy turned and pressed Steve against the car, sliding his hands around Steve’s back. Usually he felt self-conscious in public, that small part of his mind worried that some asshole like Tommy might come along and tell his dad, but Billy didn’t live at home anymore. He was out of Neil’s reach -- and honestly he couldn't give two shits what Tommy might think about them anyway. </p><p>So he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Steve’s -- he kissed Steve over and over, changing the angle, letting Steve slide his fingers up into Billy’s hair when Billy teased his tongue into Steve’s mouth. </p><p>Now he couldn’t imagine not having Steve live with him. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to buy a small starter home, and eventually move out to the suburbs and figure out how to fix leaky roofs and plant a garden with anyone else but Steve. </p><p>Billy made bacon and eggs the next morning as the coffee brewed. He still smelled like sweat and sex from the night before, still a little tender from the birthday boy fucking him eighteen ways into next week. And when Steve came up behind Billy to embrace him and kiss his neck, Billy felt a thrill at thinking soon, soon Steve would pack his boxes, and this morning would become <i>every morning</i>.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>prettyboyporter on tumblr</p></blockquote></div></div>
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